Absolute Necessities
by MLGumm
Summary: The one absolute necessity that people almost never think to put on their lists is basic human touch.
1. Chapter 1

If you ask any group of people what the basic staples of life are they will give a short list that goes something like this: air, water, food, and shelter. The very basics.

Some of the people you ask will then go on to personalise their lists, citing their "need" for, often, much less basic things, like sex, or the internet, or one of millions of things they can't imagine living without, but could, if they had to.

The one absolute necessity that people almost never think to put on their lists is basic human touch.

It's almost odd how little it's taken into consideration until it's not there any more, until there's _no_ _one_ there any more, and suddenly it's just constantly on the edge of your awareness, a sharp _wrongness_ beneath your skin. It leaves you twitchy, on edge and tipping; it leads you further away than ever from humanity, locked inside your own skin.

During the dark, early years in his struggle for control, Bruce managed to keep from touching another person for two years. He would have secluded himself forever in his own custom hell, unescapable, even with a bullet, if it weren't for an accident. (Fitting, considering how he got into this mess in the firsy place.)

He was in a village, small, even for Laos, trading. He brought fish he had no way to preserve to trade for some rice and the dried version of a local pepper. Everything was fine. He was under control. He knew enough of the local dialect to cobble together a conversation with a woman in the village who knew maybe thirty words of english and a bit of Spanish, for some reason. He didn't care to haggle, but that's how trade was done in that part of the world and they were all friendly enough that he argued. It was actually a pretty great day.

Then, as she handed him the rice, their fingers brushed. It was so small and insignificant and lasted less than a second, but it was so utterly human and suddenly he _ached._

She didn't even look startled when his eyes flashed green, just curious. They looked worried when he stopped bargaining and simply agreed, obviously frayed and desperate to leave, but they let him go without comment.

Bruce collected his things and disappeared back into the forest, breathing deep and slow. For a long time each breath was the the whole of his existence, warm and sweet in his lungs.

When he was calm again he resolved to never do anything like that ever again. He needed to control himself better, to seal himself off further from the world.

* * *

The second time he touched someone he wondered if he did it on purpose. Well, not really on purpose, not consciously, but maybe just as a need presenting itself. That was... not good. He couldn't _do_ that. What if the Other Guy just came out? It's not like they could fight him, even the most powerful army on Earth took him on and lost on a fairly regular basis before he ran. People were going to get hurt if he couldn't at least control his unconscious.

It didn't occur to him until hours later that he'd been so wrapped up in his motivations and the consequences of his actions that he didn't even notice when he didn't turn the slightest bit green. Rusty, startled laughter floated through the conopy.

* * *

By the time Natasha found him he trusted himself enough to be an occasional doctor. He still touched his patients as little as possible and avoided all other forms of contact all together, but it was close to enough.

He almost felt guilty in how much comfort he took from looking after his patients. His past could not be atoned for and he didn't deserve it, but that wasn't their fault and he could help them. That would just have to be close enough, too.

* * *

It was probably inevitable that Tony was the first to touch him casually after what felt like centuries of self-imposed isolation.

"Self-destructive" would turn out to be a key phrase in Tony's file, he would find out much later, during a rare peaceful moment in a quiet office, but he didn't think that was what it was when Tony reched out to poke him playfully in a tiny room full of breakable things. It felt teasing and childish and so utterly human that he had to catch his breath for a moment. And Tony just kept talking about science.

* * *

After Earth was saved the other Avengers began to feel comfortable enough to touch Bruce from time to time. Steve would pat him on the back after successful missions, or rest it their in comfort when things went less than well. Thor began to include him in the bone crushing hugs he pulled whatever person nearest to him into whenever he finished Skyping with Jane. Clint was just as likely to drape himself on Bruce's back when he didn't feel like standing up on his own in the mornings as he was to anyone else but Natasha, whe was too grumpy to deal with him before a cup of coffee. Even Natasha came around with the occasional nudge or companionable press of shoulders during transport. But Tony perhaps touched him the most often, and seemingly without thought. He'd poke and prod and push and pull and never once did he doubt Bruce's control.

For all that, Bruce was never the one to initiate contact, not with anyone.

* * *

Pepper left Tony two years after the Avengers formed.

Bruce found him in his workshop, drunk and drinking, hugging Dummy somewhat desperately with the hand that wasn't holding a $500 bottle of scotch. He sat on a nearby workbench and listened as Tony rambled incoherently about not being able to give up everything that made him himself, even for Pepper, even if he sometimes wished he could. When he finally broke down and began to cry, Bruce reached out and pulled him into a hug. They stayed like that for a long time.

* * *

The first few months were almost an exact reversal of their previous relationship; it was Bruce's turn to poke and prod and push and pull, to get excited over crazy experiments and crazier adventures.

The other Avengers respected his wishes and let him grieve alone, but if there was one thing Bruce knew about Tony Stark it was this: the more he pushes people away, the less he wants to be left alone.

* * *

Another defining character trait Tony had was one Bruce was mostly unaware of: he had the unfortunate habit of mistaking kindness for love.

Bruce found this particular piece of information out one night as they were studying some nanobots of unknown origin, heads bent close over a microscope. He was explaining his theory that they infected their hosts like a virus when a warm, callused hand with blunt fingers curled around the back of his neck and drew him away from his observations and into a kiss. Unsurprisingly for a man who kissed so often, he was good at it. What was a surprise was how chaste it was. It was a warm, dry press of lips and a hand holding him in place and nothing else. For what felt like the longest time Bruce just stayed there, too stunned to even register anything beyond the sense of touch.

Then his brain kicked in and he scrambled back, making it to the elevator just in time to trap the Other Guy inside, if only for a moment.

The next morning no one asked what was with all the property damage. Natasha gave him a cup of tea and told him Tony had been called to Tokyo on urgent buisness the night before. He couldn't tell how much she actually knew and she didn't tell him.

* * *

It wasn't that he didn't like Tony, nor was it a gay freak-out (even if it was a bit of a surprise to discover that he might've actually enjoyed it). No, it was just that Tony was his closest friend and he was so _scared_ that even if the Other Guy didn't exist he'd find so many ways to mess it up. He ignored the voice in the back of his head telling him that he already did.

Better to stay friends.

* * *

Evidently, Tony agreed. He showed up a few days later a bit hungover, but no worse for wear, acting like nothing had happened.

So, for all intents and purposes, nothing did.


	2. Chapter 2

To be fair to Bruce, he _was_ subtle. It was, in fact, a testimony to how very subtle he could be that it took two weeks for anyone to realize that none of them had touched him since... Since. The Avengers were a very tactile group of people, all things considered, and the way he managed to effectively avoid even the most superficial brush of fingers without notice attested to how illusive he could be.

That having been said, no man can avoid basic contact with the people he's living with without someone figuring it out. Unfortunately for Bruce's sanity, Tony was once again the one to figure it out.

They were having a very Avengers breakfast, with Steve making poor attempts at what could charitably be called cooking, and Thor hogging all the poptarts, and Natasha texting, and a hungover Tony mainlining coffee, and Clint stumbling in and preparing to cling to the nearest back: namely, Bruce's.

Bruce sidestepped him with careful, but laughing eyes and no one said anything as Clint simply staggered over to Thor and began to make puppy-dog eyes at his sugary breakfast.

Unbeknown to Bruce, Tony watched, and he started to see how when the older man passed the salt he did so in a way that insured that no one's fingers ever brushed his, or how carefully he skirted around the kitchen. It could be a coincidence, but he knew better. So, when Bruce left for his lab Tony took a pull of whiskey (to the chorus of _Jesus, Tony, really?_ from Steve) for courage and followed him down.

* * *

That particular conversation was put off by alarms and a confusing call about Loki and a six-legged horse from a young, harried SHIELD agent.

No one was very fond of that paticular mission, and the less said about it the better.

* * *

The real conversation happened in medical, after the mission we do not speak of, with Tony hovering, all stiff bravado and self-depriciation, next to the industrial strength bed where Bruce woke up.

For once Tony was grateful for that Sorry About the Sexual Harassment speech Pepper had made him memorize a lifetime before.

Bruce listened for the first couple minutes disoriented and convinced he was having a particularly odd dream, because in what universe was _Tony_ the problem? Still dazed, he sat up and outlined his actual reasons, because, like he did with all their more crazy ideas, he followed Tony's lead; if he was prepared to talk, then so was Bruce.

He really should have been more suspicious about how carefully Tony listened to his careful No Touching Unless Necessary plan and the reasons behind it, but he wasn't firing on all cylinders yet. As it was, it took him by surprise when Tony ducked down and gave him a quick peck on he lips, before heading out the door with only the quick call of "Immersion therapy!" over his shoulder.

For a few tense moments Bruce waited for the Other Guy to appear, because at least it was in SHIELD, where the people around them stood a chance of surviving, but the moment never came, and suddenly he was reminded of that second touch.

Rusty and startled laughter floated down the halls.

* * *

Things almost went back to normal.

Almost. Because now Tony kissed him with quick, dry, presses of lips every time he had a scientific breakthrough, or picked a good movie on movie night, or woke Tony up so he wouldn't sleep in his lab again. The only people who seemed surprised of this new developement were Steve (for reasons that should be obvious) and Bruce himself, who kept waiting for Tony to realize he might never be ready for more and move on. He couldn't understand why he stayed, but he knew of one person who would.

* * *

Bruce didn't even have to say anything. Pepper took one look at him and steered him into an empty office. She sighed, and called for some tea and Tony's file. She had a meeting, but the file would answer all the questions she would be both able and willing to. He didn't think he could ever fully forgive her for breaking Tony's heart, but in that moment he came close.

For the next few hours he sipped his cooling tea and read the story of the man he knew, told through a lense of both exasperation and fondness that he empathized with immediately.

* * *

The file called Tony self-destructive, yes, but it also called him selfless. It called him stubborn and funny and all sorts of things Bruce knew within seconds of meeting him, and a few things he'd learned since then. He closed the folder quietly and left both it and his thanks with Pepper's secretary.

There was something he needed to do.


	3. Chapter 3

Bruce found Tony in his lab, making some routine adjustments to Butterfingers. He didn't seem to realize that the sun had set, plunging the room into darkness. He could only see what he was doing because the thin material of his shirt, single-layered for once, allowed soft blue light to shine through. He watched for a while, last minute doubts being filed far away. He called on Jarvis for lights.

Tony jokingly covered his eyes, claiming that he was blind. His bots began to make small, panicked, whirring noises, and Dummy tried to knock one of the lights out with a twisted piece of wire before Tony and Jarvis managed to convince them that he had just been kidding.

Bruce continued to stand in the doorway, chuckling silently. Then Tony grinned at him from his workbench, and instead of smiling back, his face took on a determined set. He walked up to his friend/partner/fellow science enthusiast/something more, stopped barely a foot away, and nodded to himself.

Bruce kissed him. It lasted far less than a second, and could barely be called a kiss at all, if it weren't for the intention behind it. After a moment's pause, in which Bruce had pulled away in order to study Tony's expression, lips chased after retreating lips, searching for more. They met slim, steady fingers and paused. Not yet, then. That was okay. Tony could be surprisingly patient when he wanted to be.

* * *

For a while this was their new normal: Tony would kiss him wherever, whenever the mood called for it, and Bruce would do the same, but in private.

It didn't go beyond that, but it didn't really need to, for the moment.

* * *

After a while, people outside the Avengers began to catch on. Tabloids spread gossip about how kinky their sex probably was, with the Hulk and two of the biggest brains in science in the mix. Fox News complained about their corrupting the young, until one day Tony invited himself to their studio for an interview. It went pretty well, as far as he was concerned, so the resulting 'meeting' with Fury, who certainly lived up to his name, was more than worth it.

Elsewhere, on the internet, a photo of a fully armored Ironman, sans mask, gleefully kissing a very undressed and very sleepy looking Bruce in the ruins of a Starbucks downtown became a big enough hit to launch a small superhero-watching blog to stardom.

* * *

At some point, kissing evolved into making out. Making out with very clear cease-and-desist signals, and safewords, and every other possible precaution Bruce could think of, but making out, nonetheless.

Bruce still worried about the Other Guy hurting Tony, but they were learning to manage it.

* * *

They got married, to the surprise of absolutely everyone, including Bruce. Tony mainly wanted to make sure that they were each other's emergency contacts, and thought hacking into the state's marriage registry to add them to it was the easiest way to go about it. Bruce was a lot less surprised after that explanation, but made him go back in and change it.

They got added to the registry the normal way two days later, by going down to the courthouse with their friends in tow. They all went out for schwarma afterwards. As weddings go, it was a pretty good one.

* * *

Tony saw Bruce unclothed many times, thanks to various superhero shenanigans. After a certain point, you'd think he'd be desensitized to it. For the most part, you'd be right.

But the first time he saw Bruce get undressed on purpose, no giant green men involved, Tony thought it was like he was seeing him naked for the very first time.

* * *

Bruce still worried about the Other Guy hurting Tony, because at the end of the day he was still a giant made of unstoppable rage. He worried about not being able to stop himself. He worried that if he lost it, no one would be willing to do what it took to stop him, not until he'd done something unforgivable (again).

But the thing was, Tony trusted him. He trusted him enough to feel safe poking and prodding and pushing and pulling. He felt secure enough to give him a quick peck, mid-transformation, before flying off into battle. And Bruce trusted Tony. Maybe this time, that really was enough.


End file.
